


Start Over

by ledastrevas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: I love this family ok, Latin Hetalia, Look at Portugal's face and tell me he doesn't look like Brazil's father I dare you, Other, Pls write more about 'em
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledastrevas/pseuds/ledastrevas
Summary: "Nothing that fifty years of group therapy with a psychiatrist will not solve." Brazil said, hiding his red face with a cup of coffee in front.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Start Over

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!! A new work that I hope you will like it yay! 
> 
> Just in case:  
> Spain — Antônio  
> Portugal — Afonso Henrique  
> Brazil — Luciano  
> Macau — Macau (wow, creative)  
> Angola — Querida  
> Cape Verde — Valéria  
> Guinea Bissau — Tadeu
> 
> ****The expression "give um pau in them" means beat the shit out of someone. If you translate it will become "give a dick/stick" cksksksjskxkskxkss I love portuguese bye

Portugal still remembered its glory days with nostalgia.

From when he started to strengthen european trade and explored seas with Colombo, how he came across each of his colonies, his greatest achievements, and how he was respected at european summits. He missed his children (not that he would ever confess that) and his house full with kids. He remembers how he spent his days stressed, taking his time in the office, with letters to the emperor and other countries, and checking that no one had set his house on fire.

“Only ten minutes late, it's not like someone's life is at risk, for God's sake!”, Complained Luciano to Alfred's sharp looks, a cup of coffee in his hand and his hair pointing in all the existing directions. He sat down next to Argentina, not forgetting to slap him on the back of the head. "What's up, my boss!"

"Bloody boludo!"

"Continuing the main subject of the agenda." The American interrupted, arranging the papers on the table. "In this semester, the economy ..."

"It's not that bad, Afonso." Whispered his brother, poison in his provocative smile. “Today he was only ten minutes late. Didn't the father teach that not everything runs around him? Or did you just teach him exactly that? These portuguese kids impress me! ”

“Shut up, Antônio. Jones is going to piss us off later. ”

“Don't be angry with me. I pray that fate doesn't give him the same fate as yours: a forgotten and nostalgic old man worried about the clothes on the clothesline.” He played his final card, waiting for a reaction. Afonso just sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking away from Luci. Their former colony was watching them with furrowed brows and tight lips, barely hiding their discontent before, with a twinkle in their eyes, he smiled and drank some coffee. Portugal shuddered.

The rest of the meeting passed peacefully – no big discussions, just the constant clashes between the powers that didn't even fit the subject, and two and a half hours later, they had already been released. Afonso was one of the first to calmly get up, heading for the exit with Spain on his tail.

"You took the day to upset me, didn't you?" He said, stopping walking and staring at him while they were in the break room, some chairs being slowly filled. "What do you want from me, anyway?"

“I want to see where that Afonso Henrique, explorer and adventurer, dauntless and without fear of playing in the unknown, ended up!” He vented, pushing his chest.

“He died with the last king of Portugal. These are new times, I have a new life and I am happy with that.”

“Glad to be that loser? Ah, it was just what I needed!” With a raised eyebrow, he was about to reply when a shoe hit Antonio's face, knocking him to the floor with the fright. Luciano appeared in front of him, hands on his hips and a frown.

“Listen here, old man. The only being who can call the ‘portuga a loser, old and nostalgic is me, and no one else.” He took the shoe back, pointing it at Spain without any fear. “Speak ill of my dad again and you will experience what a portuguese child is capable of!” And he put on his shoe, Afonso not failing to notice that the sock was stuck in the heel. “You got to be kidding me. Dirty talking about badly washed."

"Luci, you said you were just going to talk." Macau appeared, cheeks a little red and a friendly smile for the countries that looked around them. "I didn't think you was going to make all this fuss!"

"I'm going to make a fuss if I see someone making fun of my father... uh, the‘ tuga again! I'm going to give a capoeira kick and there won't be a foot left! ” He spoke loudly, pointing his finger everywhere. Macau instantly apologized, its head almost hitting the ground. Antônio burst out laughing, part of his face still red. "Come on, you ..."

"Luciano." Portugal spoke, making it stop immediately. "Let's go." He waved to the door, following with the chinese by his side. He heard mumbling most of the way to the exit door in the parking lot. Before getting into his car, he turned to the two men standing in the back. The youngest waited with a calm smile, hair and tuxedo perfect and aligned while the brunette had already got rid of his tie and suit, the first buttons of his shirt open. “I'm still going to make lunch, coldfish soup. Do you accept?"

"Of course, if it's not a nuisance." Macau bowed, before elbowing in Brazil, which had its arms crossed and a beak in the face.

"Only when you return my gold." With their penetrating gaze, he rolled his eyes. “Okay, I accept. Never deny food, do you?”

+

Later that day, he covered his children who ended up sleeping on the sofas they had in the living room, taking Macau's glasses and shoes and the cell phone out of Luciano's hand. The latter grunted, pouting his lips and eyes heavy with sleep.

"Tuga", called him, his hand getting ready for a more comfortable position. “If they mess with you again, just let Macau and me know. We are going to give 'um pau in them." Laughing softly, he kissed his forehead and covered him with the blanket.

"Leave it to me. And tomorrow, who will receive 'um pau is you for using the language I taught you so foully.”

"I learned from the master," He muttered back, turning his back on him. Releasing a happy sigh, he went to his room, a lighter weight on his chest.

+

Lying in his room, he gave the first signs that he was about to wake up, stretching and yawning, the first rays of light seeping through the curtains, a smell of coffee flooding the room and parallel conversations on the floor below attracted his attention little by little.

"Coffee." He whispered, sitting up. “Macau must be brewing coffee now. But his is very weak ...” Lifting the bedspread, he got out of bed, putting on a robe and tying his hair, the sound of his footsteps being drowned out by the movement of pots and low, barely contained voices. Stopping at the door, he froze when he saw Angola on the stove, Guinea Bissau loosening something in a way, Brazil stirring the coffee maker and Macau setting the table together with Cape Verde.

“And how is that argentine doing, who do you have a crush on, little one?” Querida asked, stirring the rice pudding. It was nothing new to anyone that the portuguese loved sweets and coffee.

“With his legs, 'sis!” He replied, disguised. “I heard that South Africa has been visiting you a lot. When are you going to introduce him to us? It's okay that I already know him and everything… ”

"Who do you not know, Luciano." Tadeu replied, hitting the shape before hearing a low noise. "Finally!"

"If you ruin my pudding I will be very..."

"We are done with our part." Valéria said in a sweet, low voice, sitting next to Macau, both waiting for the brothers to finish the mess.

"If you don't know how to cook properly, it's my fault, you fool?" Guinea Bissau pushed the brazilian with his shoulder, before taking the dish to the table and, seeing the portuguese at the door, froze.

“What did you call me for? Peacock or… Oh. ” The brunette exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to him. Macau smiled.

"Good morning Dad."

"What's going on here?" That was what he managed to pronounce, his throat scratching and his neck red.

"What does it look like to you?" Luciano let go before Angola almost hit him with a wooden spoon he used as a decoration. Turning off the stove, the short-haired african with a piece of cloth placed the pot on the table next to the pudding. Luciano grumbled about the violence as he finished pouring the scented liquid into a thermos and headed for the table. Following their example, he also sat at the head, waiting for an answer.

"We ... We couldn't get everyone together because it was a very sudden request." Cape Verde, the oldest of all, started. She was sitting on her right between Macau and Guinea. “But I come to speak on behalf of all our brothers who were unable to arrive. We…” She looked over everyone before looking at him, a gentle and sad smile. “We want to turn the page. We want to write a new story."

"To forgive is not to forget." Angola continued, its fingers intertwined on the table. "I know that our past was painful, but we cannot be stuck in it forever."

“He left marks on all of us. But if we don't come together to go over it together, then we'll never get over it.” Macau said in a whisper, his finger circling the rim of the glass.

“We just want to set things right between us. Like a real family.” Guinea also whispered, before adjusting his posture. “We are a family, aren't we? If we are going to exist forever, there is no need to live all this time with fears between us.” Silence. Afonso felt his throat burn in an effort not to cry, while his children stared at the only one who had not spoken so far, expectantly.

"Nothing that fifty years of group therapy with a psychiatrist will not solve." Brazil said, hiding his red face with a cup of coffee in front. Given the sharp looks, he lowered the glass, giving a shaky smile. “Forgiving is not forgetting, but I think… that we can find a way to get over this.” And wiped his face, Querida stroking his back.

In a burst, the portuguese got up, going to the other side of the table, seriously.

"Get up. Fast!" He shook his head at the brazilian, who looked scared. Slowly, he barely stood up and was pulled into the arms of the portuguese. “I'm sorry, Luci. And to all of you.” And when he realized, they were all in a big improvised embrace, Portugal holding his tears until the last moment.

"Not wanting to break the mood." Tadeu started, throwing one of his braids back. "But the rice pudding will get cold."

"Let's eat then!" Valéria exclaimed, returning to the table followed by the others. Luciano continued to hug him.

“Come on, kid. Don't go pissing if you can't eat.” He nodded, without letting go. Afonso laughed, walking with him to his chair. "Do you want dad to feed you?"

"Not even screwing." He let go, staring at him, exchanging looks that they both understood.

"People!" Macau got up from the chair, running out. “Mozambique and São Tomé were lost on the way! I'll go and get them! ”

"Leave me a piece of pudding!" The brazilian grunted, finally sitting down at the table, confused conversations and laughter flooding the room. With a cup of coffee and the two newly arrived africans, Afonso couldn't be happier, a calm smile on his face as he watched them, his former colonies, his children.


End file.
